


I've Never

by followsrabbit



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 23:56:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11218917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followsrabbit/pseuds/followsrabbit
Summary: He doesn’t know when 'hooking up with Eva' turned into 'hooking up with only Eva.'





	I've Never

Chris swore off girlfriends after Iben. Partly because the breakup was a hell of a lot more drama than he signed on for, and partly because—well. C’mon. Who wants a girlfriend when you have all the pleasures and privileges of russ ahead of you. (Unless you’re William. Then you decide you’ve found your soulmate right before russ, and devote the better part of the school year to winning her over. Since William is his best friend, Chris thinks he’s allowed to say that the guy is a fucking weirdo.)

Anyway.

He swore off girlfriends after Iben, and has no clue how he seems to have started dating Eva in the time since.

Chris has had his share of girlfriends, so he gets the benefits just fine—the bragging rights that come with dating a hot girl, the regular supply of sex, the etcetera. But there’s plenty to like about not having a girlfriend too. Namely: plenty of girls, plenty less drama, and plenty less injuries after you get caught hooking up with a pretty first year. (He thought sporty was sexy on Iben until he realized how hard the girl could punch.)

It worked out well that Eva seemed to have sworn off boyfriends at the exact same time. Really fucking well and really fucking unexpected. The Eva he first met kept to couches at parties, sulked over her phone, and _cried_ after kissing him. She was hot—damn hot—but didn’t match the girl he traded texts with. The one who teased and flirted and joked. The real Eva wasn’t a hook-up; she was a romantic hipster reunion waiting to happen.

Except it didn’t. Hipster boy started fucking other girls, and Eva stopped sitting at the sidelines of parties. For a while, whenever he saw her, she had her arms wrapped around a new guy’s neck, her lips pressed against a new guy’s mouth, a new girl’s mouth.

Kind of like him.

A lot like him.

It only made sense to start hooking up with her at that point—easier to go for the girls who are looking to keep things casual, and Eva is a fucking good kisser when she doesn’t have tears in her eyes.

He doesn’t know when _hooking up with Eva_ turned into _hooking up with only Eva_.

* * *

When he starts his second semester at university, he tells himself that things will be different. He’ll stop going to as many high school parties. He’ll try to make some good, actual friends at university rather than comparing every guy he meets to William. He’ll stop hanging out with Eva every weekend.

(But he won’t stop hanging out with her altogether.) (He’s not an idiot.)

It’s just—he went to a fucking Kosegruppa party for her last December, and realized on his way home from her place the next morning that this was not the behavior of a hook-up. Neither was watching movies with her or texting with her more days than not or stealing her away from other drunk, horny guys on nights out. That’s all boyfriend territory, and Chris is a shit boyfriend. Always has been. 

So he texts back, _Can’t_ , the next time she messages him about a ’99 party. _Going out with uni friends tonight_ , he adds, and then finds another girl with auburn hair to pull.

He’s just following Eva’s advice; she’s the one who replied, _have fun_ with a winking emoticon.

* * *

There are plenty of girls with auburn hair.

That he likes hooking up with Eva _more_ is the problem.

* * *

It’s not that he makes up reasons to text Eva—but he probably didn’t need to tell her that William found a new girlfriend in London, when he really just tried to go out on one date. A reportedly shitty date. But William and Noora were their bridge before they had anything else to talk about—who knows if they would have started hanging out outside of hook ups at all if their best friends hadn’t started dating—so he’s not above using that shared ground to start a conversation.

(When he started pulling away from Eva, he didn’t really stop to think about how, if he eased back on texting her, she might ease back on texting him. That she might pull away too.)

Anyway, maybe Eva will tell Noora about the text, Noora will call William out on it, and William will get his ass back to Oslo. Chris can hope.

He gets another hook-up with Eva out of the conversation, so it’s not like he regrets it.

* * *

_Stalking someone else now?_ he texts Eva after seeing a photo of her on Instagram with some guy named Adam, who’s holding a balloon for no reason Chris can guess. He looks like an asshole.

 _Hahahaha yes_ , she texts back, _you’re always at uni. Needed someone new._

He writes, _lucky guy_ , and then deletes it. _You’re still my favorite stalker_ , then erases it. _Should I stop leaving my blinds open at night then_ , and then sends it.

(“Fucking hell,” Eva pants the next time they fuck. A small, smug smile tugs at his lips when he tilts his head to see her splayed beside him on her side of the bed, still and sweating, her skin a canvas of hickeys. “That was rough.”

“Too rough?”

Eva just rolls her eyes. “ _Too rough,”_ she mocks, and then drags his lower lip between her teeth.) 

* * *

Back in high school, university girls sounded like one of higher education’s main draws. He doesn’t know why anymore. They’re just like all the other girls he’s been hooking up with since puberty, not intrinsically hotter or wittier or better. Just more conveniently located.

For a while, he refuses to acknowledge why university girls haven’t been doing it for him.

It takes him until nearly the end of the semester to admit to himself that he misses hooking up with Eva on a regular basis, misses watching cheesy movies with Eva, misses texting with Eva, misses being around to pull her against the nearest wall when another guy tries hitting on her. He misses Eva. There. Fine. This whole ‘distance self from Eva’ mess started because he wasn’t comfortable with all the ways he was starting to think of her as _his_ , and now he's annoyed she isn’t.

(He made it to just enough high school English classes to recognize that as irony.)

And he doesn’t only want Eva for the bragging rights or the sex--although they do have damn good sex, and he does want it to happen more often--but because... Fuck. Because he watched her change from a sad girl hiding behind long hair to the life of every party. Because she rolled her eyes with him when William and Noora got too corny, felt just as drained as him when they left for London. Didn’t bail on him when he felt like distracting himself afterwards, whether with tequila shots or Netflix shows. Because she’s _Eva_ , and he’s tried to paint over her with other girls, and it hasn’t worked. It doesn’t even feel worth the effort of trying anymore.

Chris kind of wants to hit his head against a wall. He settles for his headboard.

* * *

“You coming?” William asks him, once he finally— _finally_ —flies himself home. Chris is sitting on a leather couch in William’s penthouse flat, not sure what exactly made his best friend come back after all this time, but sure as hell not about to complain.

(Maybe it’s the texts Chris sent him about Eva trying to hook Noora up with someone new a couple months back. Probably that.)

“Bro, I missed you, but I’m not crashing this reunion. You can make it over to your girl’s flat just fine on your own.”

Shrugging into his leather jacket, William shoots him a deadpan stare. “She’s at Eva’s birthday party. Check instragram.”

Chris’s first response is to blink— _she hadn’t invited him?_ —and then to get himself up from the damn couch.

* * *

"Stalker,” Eva accuses him once he reaches her after William’s dramatic entrance. His grin was partly for show when he stepped out of William’s car, but feels truer now that he has Eva smiling at him and throwing her arms around his neck.

He picks her up from the ground and spins her around once, enough to make her laugh, because what the hell. Then he gives her a lazy smirk. “Wouldn’t have had to stalk you if you’d invited me to your party.”

Eva raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought our parties were too young for you now,” she teases.

“Fuck that.” Chris wishes he had a wall or column to lean against. That would look cool. “University parties get too much hype.”

“Uh huh.”

Chris slings an arm around her shoulder. “Come to one with me, you’ll see.”

He can tell she’s had more than a few drinks already, because Eva leans easily, loosely against his side.

“Happy birthday, stalker,” he murmurs into her ear.

She looks up to give him a champagne bubble grin.

* * *

“I’ve never…” Eva wrinkles her brow as she gropes for something that she’s neither done nor said yet. Chris will be the first to admit that the game is getting hard—they’ve been playing for a while now, might be the only two _left_ playing. An idea illuminates her face a second later, spreading her lips wide and smoothing her forehead. “Eaten a pickle!”

Chris stares at her. “You’ve never eaten a pickle?” he repeats incredulously after sipping his beer.

“Nope.” Eva giggles until her head falls against his shoulder.

“That’s…” he shakes his head. “That’s the lamest _I’ve Never_ I’ve ever heard. That’s fucking tragic.”

Eva protests that it’s not her fault they’ve already said everything good. Chris tries too hard to think of a basic food he’s never touched, but can’t name one off the top his head.

Not that it matters. They’re both drunk and laughing, and Chris is more than a bit satisfied that Adam and Eva have barely looked at each other since he got here. (Hell, maybe balloon guy has already left.) (Doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t think he’s leaving with Eva.)

* * *

The rest of the night passes in a blur of drinks and dancing and a four person afterparty. Then it’s early morning, and Chris is too tired to do anything other than pass out next to Eva in Noora’s empty bed. (William, no surprise, must have convinced her to stay at the penthouse.)

“Hey,” Eva says or yawns from beside him, “thanks for crashing tonight.”

Chris raises both eyebrows. “Crashing your party or crashing here?”

“Both.” She definitely yawns this time.

Chris swallows, looks over at Noora’s bedside table, sees his last beer sitting there with a few more sips to its name. “Hey Eva,” he says.

She turns her head until she’s facing him, one cheek slurred against her pillow. “Mhm?”

One more _I’ve Never_ for the night.

“I’ve never wanted this to be a real thing,” Chris says before he can scare himself out of it. “Us, I mean.” Then he takes a swig of his beer, keeping eye contact with her all the while.

Eva stares back at him for what feels like minutes but is probably, objectively, only a few handful of seconds.

She grabs the bottle from him a moment later, and finishes it off.

* * *

“I can’t believe my _boyfriend_ didn’t get my a birthday present,” Eva teases the next day, still tangled in bed with him well into the afternoon.

Chris grins when he realizes the word doesn’t make him want to jump out of bed and flee the city. Doesn’t even make him want to get up. “Sounds like a shit boyfriend,” he agrees, pressing his mouth to her neck and then readjusting their positions until his lips are climbing her inner thigh. "Better start making it up to you.”

 (He’ll get her a jar of pickles tomorrow too.)


End file.
